Vlad's Wish
by Doricaa.reni
Summary: Vlad snaps after yet another argument with the Count, and in a moment of anger, wishes he was a breather. But he hadn't given any thought to the consequences ... Ingrid and the Count have no idea who he is, and Erin doesn't recognise him. Alone and unwanted, he attempts to rebuild his life, and, most of all, make Erin remember.
1. Chapter 1

In a moment of anger, Vlad wishes he was a breather. He didn't bank on what would happen next – he and Erin have never met and while he clearly recognizes her, she hasn't a clue who he is. His family are still under threat from slayers and although he is now out of danger, neither Ingrid nor the Count are safe.

**Vlad's Wish**

**Chapter 1**

Vlad turned away from his father in a rage. Why did he never understand? He was sick of it, sick of always quarrelling with his father, sick of Bertrand reproachfully shaking his head, and most of all, he was sick of the way Ingrid smirked at him during a Vlad-Count confrontation. Bursting into his room, he slammed his door shut with a click of his fingers, ignoring Bertrand's and Erin's shouts to open the door. Looking around furiously, he then screamed the words that he would regret for the rest of his life:

'I wish I was a breather!'

When he woke up again, the first thing he felt was the cold early morning air. He blinked in bewilderment. Why was he lying on the floor? He peered around his bedroom. And why was his room empty? All the things he kept here, all the things that made his room personal, that made it his, were gone. As if he had never existed. He shrugged. Perhaps he was still concussed, or whatever it was that had happened. Jumping up, he exited the room and found himself knocking on the door of the bedroom that Erin stayed in. There was no reply. He knocked again, only to be greeted by silence. She was probably asleep, the sun wouldn't rise for about an hour or so. Or else she had just woken from one of her nightmares and was plugged into her iPod and listening with the volume turned up so high that she couldn't hear him.

Frowning, Vlad pushed the door open. Then he saw something that filled him with a terror so deep that it was as if a cold hand had snaked around his chest and made him stop breathing.

Erin's things were gone.

True, she had only arrived at the Dracula household with a few meagre possessions, but they were still noticeable. The only thing here was the coffin. It was as if Erin had never been here either. Where was she?

Vlad swallowed and tried to stay calm. He was sure that was all – but would she really leave and take all her belongings with her? And would she really leave at night? Vampires would be roaming the streets; she would have known it wasn't safe. But then, they were both as reckless as each other. Still, Vlad was beginning to get rather worried. He decided to go and find Bertrand, maybe he knew what was going on. But Bertrand couldn't care less about Erin – in his eyes, anything distracting the Chosen One was better off not there.

Vlad knocked on the door of Bertrand's room. There was no reply there either, but then why would there be? Vlad reasoned with himself. It was early morning, everyone was still asleep. He opened the door.

Just like his room, and Erin's, Bertrand's was empty. There was nothing there.

Vlad's mind gave way to panic. Where were they? Why had everyone suddenly abandoned him? He slowly made his way down to the courtyard of Garside Grange. The first rays of sun were shining through the large gaps in the clouds. Vlad stepped out into the courtyard, waiting for the hissing that meant his flesh was burning. It never came.

Suddenly he remembered last night. How he had quarrelled with his father. And how he had stormed into his room, screaming, "I wish I was a breather!"

Somehow, overnight, Vlad's wish had come true. He was no longer the Chosen One, he wasn't a vampire, he was free to roam the streets during the day, and there would be no more mindless violence or draining anyone of blood. Not that he had done much of that anyway.

His initial delight at this new discovery quickly turned to grief. The slayers had chased Ingrid, weeks and weeks ago, in order to get close to him, the Chosen One. Erin had rescued Ingrid, before the two girls met Vlad and arrived with him at Garside Grange. And Bertrand … Bertrand had only arrived because he had made it his duty to help the Chosen One … but if he was a breather, if he wasn't the Chosen One, then there would be no reason for Erin or Bertand to be here. And now they were both gone.

Why did he say that he wanted to be a breather? Why? _Why_? What had he been thinking? But that was the thing, he hadn't been thinking at all. Now he really understood the phrase, "be careful what you wish for".

The sunlight shone full on his face. _So this is how it feels to be human_, Vlad reflected. 'Human,' he said out loud, again and again: 'Human.' The word felt strange on his tongue. _Human._ Touching his neck briefly, he felt it: a pulse, a strong, throbbing pulse, the blood rushed around him and his body and he was _alive_. He felt a sudden adrenaline rush. _Human_. He stood there in the middle of the courtyard, held his arms out, embraced the sun. _Human_. In that split second, he forgot all about the Count, forgotten Ingrid, forgotten Bertrand, forgotten Erin, forgotten his mother and Patrick and Wolfie … and he breathed. _Human_. This was it, this was him, it was about him, it had always been about him, not the bloodthirsty vampire, not the Chosen One, Vladimir Dracula … was now alive. He was human.

This burst of happiness vanished as suddenly as it had come. He was alone. He had no-one. The Count would surely alienate him if he found out, and Ingrid would take even greater pleasure in bullying him … Ingrid had been no match for Vlad the vampire but for Vlad the breather …

Yet common sense told him they must be told. The Count could hardly fail to notice if his favourite child suddenly started showing signs of even less vampiric behaviour than normal.

Sighing, he knocked on the door of his father's room.

The Count irritably poked his head around the door.

'What is it?' he looked at Vlad, noticing the Garside uniform. 'I'm sorry, young man, but you appear to have arrived at the wrong part of the school – not to mention three hours early. School doesn't start until nine.'

Vlad grinned. The Count had a habit of wind-ups like this. 'Dad, I _live_ here, remember? I'm your son.'

The Count frowned. 'I don't have a son. I do have a daughter though, and she is a terrible pain in the neck.'

Vlad's smile faded. 'OK, Dad, joke over. I'm your son and I would like to come in and get ready for school now! Even if it does start in three hours.'

The Count glared. 'You're even more of an oddball than my servant, and I thought he was an abomination of nature. I am sorry, but you cannot come in.'

'Dad! Please, it's me, Vlad!'

'What's all this commotion about?'

Ingrid had appeared at the door. Vlad relaxed a little. 'Oh, Ingrid, am I glad to see you.'

Ingrid looked back at him in disdain. 'Just who are you? And why do you know my name? I've never seen you in my life.'

'For once, daughter, I agree. This young man appears to be under the impression that he is my son.'

'But Dad, Ingrid … please …'

'Oh, stay away from me, boy! Don't come near again!' exploded the Count.

Ingrid looked indignant. 'What about me? I don't want that freak hanging around me either.'

Vlad felt tears pricking the back of his eyes, as the Count heaved a sigh of annoyance. 'Yes, I suppose you'd better stay away from _her _as well. Good day!' And with that, he slammed the heavy wooden door.


	2. Chapter 2

And chapter 2 is up! Just to warn you that this chapter is a little sentimental – and if you can't stomach it, you'll just have to wait until chapter three. Also sorry it's a bit shorter than the previous, but the last sentence ends it well.

**Chapter 2**

For a long time, Vlad just stood there, staring at the wooden door. The door that that the Count had opened to him in welcome before, was now resolutely shut. With those last words as a vampire, Vlad had wished away not only himself, but his whole life. One thing was certain – nothing would be the same again.

Suddenly Vlad had a horrible thought. Where would he go once the school day was over? He had nowhere to live. Nobody would want to take in a teenage boy, that was for sure. Thanks to his stupid temper he had made himself parentless and homeless. Would he have to resort to roaming the streets? In the breather films he had watched with Erin, the hero would always make a stupid decision that led to him being out on the streets. The hero would walk alone at night, be set upon by hostile gangs, and sit on the edge of the pavement rattling an empty soup cup in the hope that someone would take pity and drop in a couple of coins. Then the hero found a beautiful girl, fell in love, and it all ended happily ever after. Vlad was fairly sure that there would be no such ending to _his _story. He would probably end up starving, or freezing to death during the coldest point of the winter, like in one of the breather stories where a little girl sold matches and froze to death on the New Year. How Erin had wept when she read that one –

_Erin_. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face. Small, pixie-like, delicate. How she had saved Ingrid from the slayers – Ingrid wouldn't have stood a chance if it hadn't been for Erin. The struggles she went through in the beginning, as the other Draculas reluctantly accepted her into their household. And then that wretched Carpathian Feast, where Vlad had discovered the first part of her secret – that she was a breather. They had kissed, so awkwardly, through the bars of the cage Erin was being held in. Ingrid had told him to do that. Vlad could almost hear his sister laughing with glee. Then after the feast was over … '_I won't let them hurt you_,' Vlad had promised. Erin had smiled at that. '_You've got to be the sweetest vampire in the world_.'

_You've got to be the sweetest vampire in the world. _Who would have thought those words had meant so much to him? For a "regular", evil, bloodthirsty maniacal vampire, it would have come as an insult. But for Vlad, those were the words he had wanted to hear all his life. And now he had thrown it all away, and for what? For his family to shun him, to lose his girlfriend (although he had never used the word) … his whole future was in tatters. He felt as though someone had just died. In a way, _he _had died, the vampire part of him, the Chosen One part of him had died. Then he remembered the heartbreak he had felt upon discovering she was a slayer, and how afterwards, when they had defeated Sethius, he had promised that he would never let anything separate them. Only now he had. He had broken his promise.

He shook himself out of his rather morbid thoughts. He wouldn't be able to spend his whole breather life wallowing in his misery. What was done was done. There was no going back now, even if he wanted to.

Did he want to, though? A part of him did, he wanted to go back to the comfort of arguing with his family, part of him wouldn't even have minded Bertrand nagging him that he wasn't working hard enough, but most of all he wanted to go back to Erin. And yet the other part of him sensed adventure. This was something completely new, he could go wherever he wanted, _do _whatever he wanted – and who would be there to stop him? But he would still have to wait another year before he left school. If he went to Miss McCauley and told her he wanted to leave now, there would be a whole lot of fuss and his parents being dragged in – only now he didn't have any parents. It just wasn't worth it.

* * *

He was still staring at the door at a quarter to nine. It burst open as Ingrid stamped out. She slammed it as usual; Vlad could only guess that she and the Count had quarreled again. But that had been nothing new, in fact, Vlad would have been worried if a day had passed without them at each other's throats.

Ingrid glared at him. 'What do you want now, freak? You do realise that thanks to you, I was woken up and got out of my coff – I mean my _bed_ early.'

Vlad couldn't help feeling amused at that. 'Sorry, Ingrid.'

'There you go again! How do you know my name when I haven't the foggiest who you are? Just _stop _talking to me, or -'

The younger boy smirked. 'Or what? You'll tell Dad? Not like you to be unable to stand up to someone, Ingrid.'

His sister's eyes flickered. 'What would _you _know? I bet it's alright for you, in your house with your mum and dad and your -'

'I don't have a mum or a dad,' Vlad interrupted miserably.

'Yes, well, they probably fled because they couldn't face the prospect of living with a freak like you,' Ingrid said nastily. She blinked rapidly, as if coming out of a trance. 'Why am I still talking to you anyway?' As she swept off down the corridor, she suddenly turned back and called, 'You really shouldn't be hanging around outside other people's front doors, they'll think you're homeless.'

The trouble was, of course, that was exactly what Vlad was.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry guys for the wait and that this chapter is not too interesting, but seeing as the story began early in the morning, I needed something to fill in the gap between then and the evening. Anyway, hope you don't think it's too bad!**

**Chapter 3**

Vlad would never know how he was going to get through the day. It was absolutely hellish. Any hopes of seeing Erin were quickly crushed when he asked her would-have-been-friend Becky if she had seen her. Becky had smiled – she thought it made her look alluring, but in Vlad's opinion it just looked as if she had a bad toothache. 'Erin?' Becky shrugged. 'Who's _Erin_?'

Up until that point Vlad was still desperately hoping that he was having a bad dream, or else that his family were playing an elaborate joke on him. Now he definitely knew it was for real.

Becky moved a little closer. 'Why? Looking for a girlfriend?'

'Sort of,' Vlad muttered. It was the wrong thing to say.

Becky feigned surprise. '_Really_? Because I would be a perfect -'

Vlad cringed away. Becky was pretty, he supposed, but she was far too obvious. Not to mention desperate. With a capital D. Not to mention really, _really_ not his type. 'No thanks, Becky, but listen … if you do see Erin, could you tell her that I've been looking for her?'

Becky glared at him. A lot of people had been glaring at him, Vlad reflected. Was it so easy to upset people if you were a breather? Things were not looking good. 'You weirdo! Can you just stop going on about this imaginary girlfriend of yours?' She tossed her hair and walked off. No doubt she would now tell everyone that Vlad had an "imaginary girlfriend" – she was an avid gossiper.

The rest of his classes passed in a similar fashion. People would lean over and hiss, 'Hey, is it true you've got an imaginary girlfriend?' or else they would say to each other without lowering their voices, 'Vlad's got an imaginary girlfriend – how sad is that?'

Usually Vlad dreaded home time because it meant that the Count and Bertrand would have a go at him for not training hard enough, or Ingrid winding him up, but this time he was dreading it because he had no home to go to. He would have to be out on the streets. And it was November, it would be freezing at night. He would just have to find an excuse to stay in school longer.

Luck was on his side when the art teacher announced that he needed a volunteer to tidy the art cupboard after school. Vlad's hand shot up immediately, and he wasn't surprised that he was the only one – the art cupboard was massive and possibly one of the messiest in the school. It would take him ages to tidy it all. The teacher seemed surprised that someone had decided to do it for once, but he made no comment. He didn't really care.

When the bell rang, signalling the end of the period, Vlad dawdled along to the cupboard. Had he been a vampire, he would have had the power of speed, and have got the job done in less than half the time. He opened the door and was unsurprised to see a dozen things tumble out onto the floor. He bent down to pick it up, and slowly began to put everything back in order.

* * *

Vlad checked his watch, and gaped. It had only taken him an hour. He had been counting on it taking much longer, to delay the time when he would have to leave. He unpacked everything and started again.

* * *

Two hours later, Vlad had just finished for the fourth time. He knew he wouldn't be able to delay the moment much longer. As if on cue, the art teacher opened the door. 'Still here, Vlad? I must say you've done a splendid job here. But I think it's time you went home; your mum and dad will be expecting you.'

Vlad slowly walked through the corridors, and looked out of the window. It was warm in here, and freezing out there. He tried to look at the bright side of it. He would only have to last a few hours and then he would be back at school.

He opened the door. A fierce blast of cold air caught him in the face. It was already getting dark.

Taking a deep breath, Vlad stepped outside.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: So sorry for not updating sooner, I had a bit of writer's block, but I'm going to try to post more regularly again.**

**Chapter 4**

Vlad had no idea where he was going. His first thought was to sleep somewhere near the school, but then somebody might notice and he would have a lot of questions to answer. He decided to take one of the back streets, where nobody went, and make himself comfortable for the night.

Shouldering his bag, he walked slowly through the school gates. A few street lamps lit the way for him but he still felt nervous, as if somebody was watching him, or waiting to attack him. The wind blew straight into his face, making his eyes water. Gritting his teeth, he carried on walking. Mindlessly wandering around the town in the dark was not his idea of fun, not to mention it was getting colder by the minute. Had he been paying attention, he would have noticed that he was about to walk into the rough part of the town and turn back immediately. But he was so caught up in his own thoughts that he paid no attention as he turned the corner.

And quickly realised he had made a big mistake.

Around the corner stood a group of boys, half-concealed by shadows. They were swearing and from where Vlad was standing, they looked like they were smoking. They were dressed in leather jackets, trying to recreate the tough guy look, but that wasn't what made Vlad nervous. It was the fact that they had noticed him, and were now nudging each other and pointing at him with smirks on their faces, as if to say, "Him. That one."

'Well, well, well,' the biggest one of the group sneered. 'It's one of the famous _Garside Grange_ kids.'

Vlad swallowed. Garside Grange was one of the best schools in the town, and he had once heard Miss McCauley explaining to the Count that it was important to let the students out earlier than most other schools to avoid any fights or students being beaten up by the rougher kids. Clearly Vlad had just come across some.

'Yeah?' Vlad's throat was dry, but he wasn't going to show them he was afraid. 'So what if I am?' If he had still been a vampire, he could have taken out the lot of them before they'd even had time to blink … _Idiot! _he thought to himself. _It's no good you thinking that now, not when these guys are about to make mincemeat out of you!_

One of the boys eyed Vlad in disgust. 'My mum said they were snobby, but she didn't say they were wannabes too.' This raised a burst of laughter, but there was no humour in it somehow.

'You've made a big mistake, coming here, Garside geek,' the leader of the gang snarled. 'This is _our _turf, and no snobby posh kids may come through here.'

'Yeah, well, if you care so much about your precious turf, couldn't you at least get better street lights?' Vlad countered. 'It's way too dark, I can't tell one gang's turf from another.'

The leader of the group walked over towards him and punched him in the stomach. Vlad doubled over in pain. As if on cue, the rest of the gang members closed in around him, kicking him, punching him, not letting him get up. Vlad had no chance of raising a hand to defend himself.

The blows rained down on him, harder and harder. Vlad felt his eyes filling with tears. _It will be over soon._ Luckily for him they were too busy beating the hell out of him to notice. His vision blurred, he could feel the blood on his face and he was pretty sure he would be covered in bruises the next morning.

When they finally let go of him, he simply slumped to the ground, lying in a bloody, battered heap on the pavement. He didn't know if it was day or night. He couldn't tell the difference between the sky and the pavement. He could feel the blood oozing from the cuts on his face. He blacked out.

* * *

When he woke up again, a blonde girl was leaning over him, concern written all over her face, and for a wild moment Vlad thought she was - 'E-Erin?' he asked stupidly. The girl shook her head. Now that Vlad was regaining consciousness again, he saw to his disappointment that this girl was not Erin. Her hair was longer and wavier, and her face was paler.

'Someone's done you over good,' the girl was saying, as she pulled out a wad of tissues from her pocket and began gently dabbing at his face. 'What happened?'

'I was … walking …' Vlad replied. 'Then some guys … a gang … made fun of me … beat me up …'

'Well, you can't stay here,' the girl replied briskly, helping him up. 'You'd better come with me so you can sort yourself out.'

Taking her hand, Vlad rose unsteadily to his feet. 'Thanks.'

'No problem. By the way, what's your name?'

'V-Vlad. Yeah. Vlad. Yours?'

The girl turned around, the sun shone through her hair and made it look like it was on fire. She looked at Vlad for a long time, and he began to wonder if she was ever going to reply. Then –

'My name is Estelle.'


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: So I was thinking … would you guys like Bertrand to make an appearance again? He was here briefly in chapter 1, but that was before Vlad made his wish. If you want Bertrand to come back to the story, send me a PM or let me know in a review. Have fun reading!**

**Chapter 5**

'Estelle,' Vlad nodded. 'That's a nice name.'

They were drinking tea out of a thermos flask, sitting on a bench in the middle of a council estate that looked as broken as Vlad felt. The paint was peeling from the flimsy wooden fences, the concrete buildings were decorated with graffiti, and the pavement was covered in a thin layer of shattered glass, which, when the sun shone, shimmered like diamonds. People passed them by without a second glance, not knowing, not caring, not wanting to know.

The corner of Estelle's mouth twitched. 'Really? I thought it was just the kind of name my mum would give me.' Her voice sounded bitter.

'Sorry,' Vlad muttered. He really wasn't good at this kind of thing.

'Anyway,' Estelle said, obviously attempting to brighten up, 'Vlad, now _that's_ an interesting name. Where are you from?'

Where was he from? He wasn't so sure now. 'Transylvania,' he replied.

'Transylvania – with all the _vampires_,' she grinned wickedly, saying "vampires" in a fake accent.

As soon as he heard the word "vampire", all Vlad's memories flooded back. And it hurt, it hurt more than it should have done, but it hurt all the same. He glared at her. 'Don't _talk_ to me about vampires,' he said through clenched teeth – regular, human teeth now, not fangs. 'Why does everyone always make such a big do over vampires?'

The words came out more vehement than he had meant them to. Estelle frowned. 'Calm down, I was only joking.'

'Sorry,' Vlad muttered again. Estelle looked amused. 'You really need to stop apologising for things, you know,' she told him conversationally. 'So anyway, what were you doing out on the street so late at night? You're one of them Garside Grange kids, they always get let out early.'

Vlad sighed. 'It's … complicated,' he said at length.

Estelle looked at him after a brief pause. 'Listen, if you've had an argument with your mum or your dad or your whatever, go home. Life on the streets – it ain't worth leaving your family for.'

'I've got no family left,' Vlad replied. Wondering how he could possibly explain his predicament while making it sound plausible at the same time, he slowly continued. 'My dad and my sister … they sort of kicked me out. It's like they don't know me anymore.'

'No mum on the scene then?'

'Nah, she left us for another guy when we were little … ever since then, she sort of comes and goes.'

'So what are your dad and your sister like, then?'

'They're _completely_ evil,' Vlad said; he couldn't help smiling.

'Oh, come on, they can't be that bad.'

'Believe me they are – but at least they haven't managed to kill each other yet,' Vlad added.

'And … is there a girl around?' Estelle asked teasingly.

'Yeah,' Vlad murmured. 'Erin Noble – best girl _ever_.' He smiled sadly, gazing into the distance.

Estelle allowed him a few moments of reminiscence before clearing her throat. 'She obviously meant a lot to you,' she said softly.

'Yeah,' Vlad said again. 'Yeah, she did. And now she's gone.'

'Gone?' Estelle frowned. 'What do you mean? Did you break up, or something?'

'Or something,' Vlad nodded. 'One day she was there, the next morning, she was gone.'

'Then … maybe she wanted to, you know, end it,' Estelle suggested tentatively.

'No,' Vlad shook his head, and when he spoke again, his voice was full of conviction. 'No. Erin would never, _ever _just run off without saying goodbye. She'd have stayed, she'd have told me, and I'd have tried to get her to change her mind. But she'd never just take off without telling anyone first. She's Noble through and through. And I'll find her again. I _will_.'

If Estelle was feeling sceptical about this, she didn't show it. Vlad was grateful for that, because he knew he was right.

They sat in silence for a while, before Vlad finally asked the question that had been slowly burning into his tongue for the last hour. 'So what about you then? How long have you been on the streets?'

'A year and a half now,' Estelle replied. Vlad gaped. It wasn't so much how long she had been there, but her tone of voice when she said it, the matter-of-fact kind of air that showed she'd completely given up, that shocked him. There he had been, quarrelling with the Count and Bertrand and Ingrid, thinking that _he _had been having a tough time of it, when all this time the girl next to him had been freezing and worrying about being hungry. Vlad's problems seemed almost childish and trivial in comparison. 'What happened?' he asked when he'd found his tongue again.

'The usual story,' Estelle sighed. 'My mum got married again and, well, it didn't work for me. So I left.' She said this with such finality that Vlad didn't venture further. He nodded in what he hoped was an understanding manner, and for a long time they sat on the bench watching the people walk by.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I'm so sorry for the long wait guys, still adjusting to the GCSEs that have been suddenly thrown in my face, thanks for all your patience and for not giving up on me!**

**Chapter 6**

'_I'm sick and tired of this, Vlad!' the Count screamed at him. 'You are supposed to be the Chosen One, capable of doing anything, bringing cities to ruin and women and children weep at your feet. But no! You sit there with that synthetic goo you call soy substitute, muttering and mumbling and disrespecting me!'_

_Vlad sighed. 'I'm sorry Dad,' he muttered._

_The Count's face was a mask of fury and disappointment. 'Sorry is no longer good enough. You tell me you've been training. Half the time you haven't.' He turned furiously to Bertrand. 'You are supposed to be his tutor! But I see no evidence of that fangless wimp -' Here he pointed at Vlad – 'showing any signs of ferocity or ruthlessness.'_

_Bertrand looked at his feet. Vlad was relieved to have his dad's attention off him for a while, yet he couldn't let Bertrand take the blame. 'Leave him, Dad. And I _have_ been training_._'_

_The Count, who had just turned his back, turned around with a swish of his cape. He pointed a long white fingernail at his son. 'Prove it.' His voice was laced with venom. 'Hit me.'_

_Vlad looked at him. 'W-what?'_

'_You heard me. The Chosen One should be completely and utterly ruthless. No qualms on hurting _anybody_, do you hear? So hit me. Give me the best you've got.' The Count spread held his arms out, but not to embrace his son, but his son's power._

_Vlad swallowed. It wasn't that he didn't know how to hit the Count. He knew exactly what he meant. Vlad hadn't been lying when he said he'd been training. Over the past month, he had learned all manner of powers all meant to maim, humiliate and kill. He knew things that would make the Count hit wall to wall._

'_He's too scared,' sneered a voice from the shadows. Ingrid appeared in the doorway; clearly she had been listening to the whole conversation. 'And anyway, Dad, I think it's unfair. You against Vlad, when you're so much older, so much more powerful … _I _wouldn't mind taking my little brother on anytime.'_

_The Count clapped his hands with glee. 'Oh yes! A sister-versus-brother battle! Ingrid, I do think that's one of the best ideas you've ever had! Vlad! Fight your sister, and by Satan if you lose, you will be the shame of the family.'_

_Ingrid came and stood in front of Vlad. 'Go on then, little brother. What are you waiting for? Hit me.'_

_The words crashed around Vlad's ears like thunder. Hit me._

_Hit me._

_Hit me._

_Hit me._

_Hit me._

_Hit me._

_Hit me, hit me, hit m-_

* * *

'Alright!' Vlad woke up, sweating and trembling. 'Alright, I'll bloody hit you, you bitch!' He raised his right hand and balled it into a fist, only to see Estelle looking at him from across the room in bewilderment. 'Are you OK?' she asked anxiously. 'You look like you're possessed.'

Vlad wiped the sweat from his upper lip, and took deep, haggard breaths. 'Yeah,' he replied. 'Yeah, I'm fine. Just a nightmare.' But the memory of Ingrid's eyes taunting him had burned right through his mind's eye and into his soul. He had woken too late.

'Well, anyway,' Estelle produced a can. 'Baked beans for breakfast? I'll put them on to cook.'

'Yeah,' Vlad muttered. 'Baked beans will be fine.'

A few minutes later Estelle handed him a plate of the stuff. Vlad couldn't help thinking it didn't look very appetising, but it seemed to be some sort of novelty among breathers. He once remembered Becky complaining to Erin that all she had had for breakfast was beans on toast. Vlad looked down at it again and put a large spoonful in his mouth. He gagged. The beans were mushy and the bizarre sauce they had been coated in was icy cold as it trickled down his throat, even though Estelle had been cooking it on their makeshift fire for ten minutes. He doubled over coughing, and she ran over to him.

'That – was – disgusting,' he gasped, his eyes watering. Estelle smirked a little. 'What? Never had baked beans before?'

'Never,' Vlad admitted. Estelle's smirk became more pronounced. 'So what do you wanna do today? Would it be … a, eat more manky baked beans, b, beg passersby for money as the walk right past you or c, sit and wallow in your situation?'

Vlad thought for a while. Then an idea occurred to him. He was surprised he had never thought of it before.

He turned to Estelle, beaming. 'That's easy. D, I think I'd like to find my girlfriend.'


	7. Chapter 7

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* * *

**Chapter 7**

Estelle looked at him in bewilderment. 'A – are you sure?' she asked.

Vlad nodded. 'Of course!' Erin would talk to him. Erin would look after him, Erin would never reject him –

But his wish had affected Erin too. Maybe she wouldn't know him. He'd knock on her front door and beg her to remember him. With a bit of luck, she'd shake her head pityingly. If not, she'd probably get someone to throw him off the premises.

But that wasn't going to stop him from trying.

Estelle must have noticed his faltering glance, because a moment later she said, 'Hey, you sure you want to do this?'

'Yes!' Vlad insisted. He quickly scrambled around packing his few belongings into his backpack.

'You know where she lives?'

For a horrible moment Vlad thought he'd forgotten Erin's address. Then he remembered. _Erin Noble, 28 Sycamore Avenue, London. Erin Noble, 28 Sycamore Avenue, London. Erin Noble 28 Sycamore Avenue London. Erin-Noble-28-Sycamore-Avenue-London. Erin-Noble-_

'Vlad?'

'Yeah, yeah I remember.'

'Let's get to the station then!'

Estelle grabbed his wrist and the two of them ran through the crowds to the station. Jostling through annoyed travellers, they made it to one of the ticket desks.

'Uh, can we have two return tickets to London please?' Estelle asked the gum-chewing woman behind the counter. The woman sighed, tapped furiously at the computer, and printed two tickets. Estelle reached forward for them, but the woman pulled them back, saying, 'That'll be twenty-two ninety-nine.'

Vlad blinked. 'I'm sorry?'

'Twenty-two ninety-nine.' The woman looked irritable.

Vlad could willingly have slammed his head into the woman's front desk right there and then. How could they have possibly forgotten to bring _money_? He looked behind him and saw Estelle frantically going through her pockets. Eventually, she stammered, 'I – I'm sorry, I seem to have forgotten my money.'

The woman was unimpressed. 'No money, no ticket,' she said firmly. 'There are other people waiting-' she gestured at the lengthy queue who were ogling Vlad and Estelle as if they'd been caught in the act of robbery.

'So if you aren't able to pay …'

Vlad mumbled an apology as he and Estelle quickly backed out of the station and sat on the steps.

How the hell could they have forgotten goddamn money? Without it he had no chance of seeing Erin. Vlad felt close to tears, but he kept them in as he knew Estelle had no patience for that kind of thing.

'How we going to get money now?' Estelle sighed.

Suddenly Vlad had an idea. He jumped up. Estelle made to follow him, but he shook his head. 'Wait here.'

Estelle looked puzzled, but didn't question him.

Vlad looked around, and almost as if his prayers were answered, he saw a businessman. Yes, that one would do. He wore an expensive suit, and carried an enormous briefcase. He'd do.

Heart thumping, Vlad hurried towards him. The businessman was on his phone. Excellent. He wouldn't notice. Vlad felt his hands trembling a little, but balled them firmly into fists. It was now or never. He slammed into the man's shoulder. 'Sorry,' he muttered. The man looked up from his phone, annoyed, but hurried on and vanished into the crowd.

Drawing several shaky breaths, Vlad looked through the wallet. It had taken only a few seconds, and the businessman couldn't have noticed, or he'd be chasing after him by now. Forty-five pounds. That was more than enough. He hurried back to Estelle. 'Come on,' he said urgently.

They arrived back at the desk. It was the same woman, now filing her nails, and she looked up. 'Look, I'm not open for negotiation. No money, no tick-'

Vlad pulled twenty-five pounds from the wallet and slapped it down on the desk. 'Here,' he said curtly. 'Keep the change.'

The woman opened her mouth to protest, but obviously thought better of it, and handed over the tickets.

Vlad hurried Estelle to the train, and they quickly took two unoccupied seats just as the train pulled out of the station.

Eventually, Estelle said, 'So, you gonna tell me where you got that money from?'

* * *

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